


Copycat

by bsl



Series: Living the Hive Life [5]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Bumblebabies, Bumblebee - Freeform, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Future AU, family life, semblance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bsl/pseuds/bsl
Summary: Something weird's going on with Lian, and nobody can quite figure it out.





	1. The First Time

The first time wasn’t long after Mica and Lian’s 9th birthday, and according to Blake it was absolutely bath time. Mica had already argued her way around it for long enough, and though Lian was much quieter in her despair she dreaded the cotton candy-scented watery torture just as much as her sister. Unfortunately for Mica, Yang had already grabbed her. She’d slung the small girl over her shoulder despite the wriggling and loud protests and carried her towards the bathroom, littering the hall with clothes as she marched onwards before plopping her down into the warm water.

“But Mama…” she whined as she was dropped in, gold-tipped black ears pressed down against her head as Yang stood over her, hands on her hips and a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Hey- the only ‘but’ I wanna know about is yours getting clean in that tub. Start scrubbin’,” Yang ordered before she scooped a washcloth with a few colourful cartoon characters on it out of the soapy water and dropped it on top of her eldest daughter’s head with a satisfying  _ splat _ .

Meanwhile in the girls’ room, Blake had cornered Lian. “Stop squirming,” she muttered as she finally managed to tug her daughter’s pants off. She bundled them up in one hand and turned, shooting them across the room in the direction of the laundry hamper following the shirt she’d already wrestled Lian out of. The small twist gave Lian all the opening she needed, and she took the opportunity that was handed to her. She scooted on the floor and darted around her mother, trying to make a break for the door. Blake reached out half-blindly and her hand barely managed to take hold of Lian’s wrist. She tightened her grip and as she tried to pull the girl back towards her Lian’s form disappeared entirely from her grasp with a small shudder in the air. Her eyes snapped a few feet forward and all Blake could do was watch in shock as the girl’s pastel purple underpants vanished around the door. “Yang!”

Eventually the girls both made it into the bath, they were scrubbed, long hair was washed, and a semi-successful bathtime was finally over. They brushed their teeth, half-heartedly apologised, and were tucked into bed without any further arguments. After they turned off the lights and shut the door, both Blake and Yang made their way downstairs and collapsed onto the couch. Blake closed her eyes and sighed heavily, and Yang reached over to gently squeeze her wife’s knee in reassurance. “They can’t be good all the time, at least they’ll have to take their own showers soon,” Yang said with a faint shrug.

“I know, I know. I’m not worried about that,” Blake’s eyes peeled open slowly, amber locked straight onto Yang. She sighed again and took a moment to steel herself, not really believing what she was about to say but knowing that acknowledging it out loud was better than letting it sit at the back of her mind and worry her. “Lian used my semblance earlier.”

Yang’s head snapped around, her jaw slack and eyes wide as she stared back at her agitated partner. “You’re kidding?” 

Dark hair swung from side to side as Blake shook her head, her eyes blinked slowly as she took the time to replay the moment in her mind. “She made a shadow, left it behind and ran. It caught me completely off-guard.”

“Uh, well yeah,” One of Yang’s eyebrows quirked upwards, “If her eyes turned red and her hair started burning I’d be freaked out too.”

“Apart from the Schnee’s glyphs, I’ve never seen a hereditary semblance before. I didn’t inherit mine from my parents?” Blake shifted in her seat to bring up her knees and tucked her feet beneath herself on the couch. Yang simply shrugged.

“I guess these things just… happen sometimes? I mean, the glyphs had to start somewhere?”


	2. The Second Time

The second time was a little over two months later, not long after the girls went back to school after the summer break. It was mid-afternoon and the front door closed with an almighty slam, the impact causing a few books on a nearby shelf to shudder with the force. “Hey, what the heck was that?” Yang’s voice rang through the ground floor of the house from the kitchen before her head peeked around the door. “Mica?”

“It wasn’t me!” Mica replied with a sting of injustice in her tone as she walked past Yang and into the kitchen, immediately tugging open the refrigerator door. She reached in and grabbed a juice box before hopping up onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. As if she was suddenly struck by exhaustion she slumped forward, dropping the side of her head onto the counter beside the juice box. Her loose ponytail slid down into a puddle of dark hair on the counter, and her eyes closed as she let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh boy, what a day. If I ever needed a drink it’s today,” Yang raised an eyebrow at the little drama queen while she carefully watched Lian through the door.

The smaller blonde’s ears were pressed tightly against her head, bound down beneath the lilac ribbon that Yang had fastened around the end of a tight braid that very morning, and that seemingly minor change immediately set off alarm bells. Lian haphazardly kicked off her shoes and left them where they landed before she shrugged off her backpack and let it hit the floor with a solid thump. That was enough to make Yang abandon the knife and half peeled potatoes in the sink. She wiped her hands on the nearest towel and cautiously walked across the living room.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s up with this?” Yang asked, gesturing at the bow wrapped too-tightly around the young faunus’ head. To begin with, Lian avoided her mother’s gaze and scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. She was small, deliberate and avoidant with her movements- afraid of what would happen if she responded and allowed the conversation to go further. The floor beneath her feet was suddenly hugely fascinating, and she spent long, quiet moments trying to discern if the wood changed colour when she was standing on it. Eventually Lian silently admitted to herself that she knew it was just her shadow.

Slowly her eyes lifted to look up at Yang, her skin red and angry and eyes bloodshot, and Yang’s mind immediately went back to Beacon. Back to a stubborn, angry, and exhausted Blake looking at her with a frustrated and half defeated expression in an empty classroom. A flicker of a memory suddenly clear as day in the photonegative image stood before her in white socks and a simple dress. 

“A new girl started at school and I don’t like her Mama, I don’t,” Lian barked. Her voice held a sharper edge to it than usual, and a spark of hurt snapped through her words, “She keeps saying my eyes mean I’m possessed by Grimm!” Her little brow furrowed over her mismatched irises, both purple and gold lined with tears of anger. 

“She— what?” Yang stuttered in confusion, as she lifted a hand to stroke Lian’s cheek in an attempt to calm her down.

“And then, when Miss Alani wasn’t looking, she kept pulling my ears!” Her little voice was grew louder and louder, small hands clenched into fists at her sides, and one of her feet stomped down onto the floor. “I told her to stop but she wouldn’t listen, and when I yelled Miss Alani told  _ me _ to be quiet!”

“Did you tell Miss Alani what was going on?” Yang asked calmly while her hands delicately reached toward the bow on top of the girl’s head and pulled on one of the ends. The knot unfurled and she lifted it away to show ruffled and parted fur that laid in all the wrong directions across ears that stayed flattened against her head. Between the gaps in sandy gold Yang could clearly see the base of Lian’s ears were red and sore, the skin looked as hot and agitated as the girl herself. 

“Of course! I stayed behind at recess and she just said I had to be nice to Crysta because she was new and still trying to make friends,” Lian took a deep breath to try and steady herself, but something was bubbling up and ready to spill over, “It’s not fair, Mama! I didn’t do anything to her!” 

In that yell, something snapped. She stomped her foot again, and as she let out a frustrated growl flickers of flame began to grow around her hair. Her lilac iris snapped to a furious red, and an arm lashed out and punched hard into the wall beside her. Yang’s eyes opened wide and she took half a step back at the uncharacteristic violent reaction. “Whoa, what the—“ it took but half a moment for Yang to scoop up Lian and carry her through the front door and round to the backyard where she dropped her down onto her feet in the grass— “Okay kiddo, let it all out on me.”

Lian’s hands curled tight, her hair flickered hotter and she unleashed blow after blow. Slow and sloppy punches swung wildly, and the force behind them surprised Yang. A few of the swings went wide- all of the training she’d had vanished from her mind as it filled with an anger she’d never known before. Yang just stood and took it, letting her daughter drain all of her fury and energy into the heavy thuds against her torso. Each hit that connected chipped away at Lian’s energy. The fire consuming her hair faltered, and tears began to run down her face as her jaw stopped clenching and began to quiver. The punches slowed, her arms turned to spaghetti, and the red died out from her eye leaving watery lilac as her punches turned to weak slaps punctuated by heaving shoulders and choked sobs. Yang caught the slowly swinging hands, knelt down in the grass. She wrapped her arms around Lian and pulled her close, letting her tired frame slump into an enveloping hug. Lian’s tears soaked into Yang’s shirt and she clung tightly. Her knees wobbled but Yang held fast, holding her with one arm while the other lifted to stroke gently against sandy hair and soft ears. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re okay,” she whispered into Lian’s hair before kissing her cheek. Her eyes flickered to the movement at the back door where Mica and Blake stood, their faces mirrors of confusion and sadness. 

There were more tears, hugs and kisses, and an angry outburst from Blake, but Lian did settle eventually. She’d asked to be read to before she dozed off leaning against her mother, holding tightly to whatever clothing she could grab. Blake looked down from the book to watch Lian’s quiet and even breaths, checking that she was asleep before gently closing the book and placing it down on a nearby table. She looked up at Yang, who leaned against the windowsill with her scroll in hand, looking down at the device but not doing anything with it. 

“What’s happening?” Blake asked quietly, only half expecting a response as Yang shrunk down her scroll and tucked it away into her pocket with a sigh. 

“I don’t know,” Yang folded her arms across her chest and one finger began to tap its nail against the hard metal of her elbow, “Aside from the fact that her semblance is manifesting in like, the weirdest way I’ve ever seen.”

It was Blake’s turn to sigh. She wrapped one arm around Lian’s sleeping form and rested her palm against the girl’s bare bicep before she squeezed gently. “I hate this, she must be so scared.”

“Hell, I’m scared,” Yang’s finger moved faster, the quiet ting of her nail against the metal became more insistent as she flicked her head to throw some of her hair back over her shoulder, “I mean I thought she had yours. Why doesn’t she still have yours? Yours is safer!”

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” Blake glanced down at Lian again, then back to Yang, “I’m so close to calling my Mom.”


	3. Interlude: Home

An interlude. [Home, by Reeder.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gadKgr3v7IE)

* * *

 

 

I don’t even really know what to think. It’s just… strange.

 

Of course it’s strange, sweetheart. All semblances are.

 

Well then this is a whole new world of strange. There’s no consistency, I have no idea what’s going on.

 

Neither did I, but you figured it out and it stabilised. Just like Mica’s is doing, and just like Lian’s will, too.

 

But what if it doesn’t?

 

It will. You know that it will. What are you really trying to ask me, Blake?

 

 _Pause._ What if she gets hurt before it does?

 

Then you’ll manage. I can’t promise it won’t hurt her, just like nobody could promise that Mi-

 

Mom.

 

 _Sigh_. I’m sorry.

 

I know.

 

It will take time, but before you know it she’ll have it figured out. Then in the blink of an eye she will master it, and you’ll find yourself wondering exactly how you missed her becoming a force of nature.

 

 _Pause._ And until then?

 

Until then, I suppose, you keep doing exactly as you are. You’re doing a great job.

 

It doesn’t feel like it.

 

It never does at the time. It never feels like enough, but you’ve been blessed with those two and you are doing right by them. Both of you. You’ve built a safe and loving home and have proven time and again that you would do anything for them. It’s okay to be scared, hell, I’d be more worried if you weren’t. But what is important is that your fear doesn’t get in the way of doing what is right for your children- and I know that you would never let it.

 

Thank you.

 

Any time, honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Reeder writes soundtracks for stories which haven't been written."  
> Some of his music was featured at the end of the 'Balance' arc of the McElroy's Dungeons and Dragons podcast, The Adventure Zone. He writes agonisingly sad piano music that makes me want to rip my heart out. Please don't tell him I sent you.


	4. The Third Time

Winter was calling the next time. The ground was littered with dead leaves, warm shades from rich crimson and burgundy to brilliant gold contrasted the cool breeze that lifted them just enough so they might glide and pirouette across the playground unhindered, no feet to kick or crush them while they danced. Dew from the air clung to every surface and glittered in the late morning sunshine like the rippling surface of a tranquil ocean and the trees swelled and rolled with echoes of the surf’s susurrus.

A sharp ring of a bell shattered the peace, and summoned a muffled roar of hundreds of feet beating against tiled floors, cresting closer and closer until doors were hurled open and a tide of children cascaded forth over the asphalt. The playground suddenly became alive with activity, balls flew wildly through the air and skittered across the ground, jump ropes scuffed against concrete, and feet pounded as their owners sprinted onward trying to lay claim to the best part of the play area. A small group of children rushed towards a large jungle gym. 

Thick and thin metal bars crosshatched across each other to build a towering fortress, panels tacked on to provide fortification during the inevitable war to decide the ruler of an ancient nation. The nip in the air caused no hesitation to the three children that reached it first and their hands clasped at the cold metal without a wince as they started to scramble up the frame. A young boy with dark skin, black hair and a long tail striped with orange and black took the initial lead, followed closely behind by a blur of blonde and a blaze of black. Hand over foot they clambered up the structure, their grips loose to allow for speed as they raced upward over the battlements. Lian took the lead, a grin creeping across her face as she heaved herself higher and higher in a desperate bid to claim the throne. Her ponytail swung with each grasp and pull and scuffed against her shoulders as she got closer and closer, moisture from the cold metal slicking her palms and the soles of her shoes. One more reach, one more pull, and as she moved to make the final leap her foot slipped from the metal bar beneath her. Her hands gripped tightly to the bar but as her weight dropped the shock wrenched her away. Her fingertips reached out but the surface skittered out of reach and she was falling. A high-pitched squeak pealed from her lips as she heard her sister’s voice screech out her name, and the playground seemed to fall silent as she dropped like a stone. She twisted her body and tried to rely on her instincts to guide her to a safe landing but as she turned she collided with a bar, then another and another, a cacophonous ringing of tubular bells echoing out into the air until her form slumped heavily onto the cold, damp ground.

Mica slipped between bars with haste, dropping herself to the ground before she surged over to her sister’s side. “Li?” Her sneakers skittered across the ground, and she skidded a little before dropping hard to her knees. The cold began to seep up through her pants, creeping across her skin and then burrowing into her joints as she knelt still and took in the image of limbs at odd angles and the quiet that settled around them. After a moment she shook it off and reached forward to quickly squeeze Lian’s hand before holding her face. “Li? Come on, you’re okay.  Zhàn qǐlái!” Mica’s desperation billowed in parallel with the volume of her voice and each word inched her closer to panic. Her hands latched themselves onto Lian’s clothes and Mica tugged and shook her sister’s limp frame to no avail. Her head jerked up and swung from side to side, looking around for anyone to come and help, but all Mica could see were gargoyles peering down at them, watching them both drowning and doing absolutely nothing. She gritted her teeth and took Lian’s face in her hands again, brushing bright blonde bangs out of her face while she muttered quietly, “Come on, get up, get up, get up.”

Lian’s face twitched into an etching of panic. Her eyes cracked open into a tight squint and both girls swallowed great gulps of air. Mica shifted back, she took her hands away from her sister’s cheeks and instead steadied Lian’s shoulders as she gingerly tried to sit up. One hand wound itself into Mica’s clothes and Lian winced as the other moved, tucking it into her lap for support while she slowly sat upright. “That sucked,” she grumbled, ears folded against her hair.

It was a moment that Mica nearly missed, but as there was ripple in the light over Lian’s body. An imitation of the girl formed across her entire frame and lingered for a long beat before dropping down, as if gravity suddenly remembered its place and tugged it back to earth. It dissipated into threads of smoke that quickly submerged into the ground and Lian’s right hand suddenly wasn’t at the wrong angle anymore. She flexed her fingers and turned her wrist, and Mica’s face paled as the realisation washed over her.  “Hey! You can do that? But I thought I could do that!” Honey eyes rapidly flicked back and forth over the two of them, first to Lian’s wrist, to her own hands as she brought them back to herself, down to the ground, and finally back up to her sister’s pale and pained face. “Does that mean I can't do it anymore?”

Hands grasped at Lian and moved Mica back as adults swept in from every conceivable angle, surrounding and separating them in a whirlpool of activity. “Wait, I-” Mica was cut off as the tide of adults carried Lian away into the building, leaving her stranded in the dirt with only the bones of a castle and her thoughts for company.

**Author's Note:**

> A one-week project. Find me on tumblr @beeEssL


End file.
